


Green Grass and High Tides

by FriedCatfish



Category: Night In The Woods (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon, big spoilers ofc, it's not necessarily maebea but like if you want it to be it could be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-14 15:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10539642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriedCatfish/pseuds/FriedCatfish
Summary: Bea knew she'd eventually have to deal with it all over again. That doesn't mean she was ready for it this time.





	

First there was another flood, one which wiped out a good chunk of the Pickaxe's inventory, and three days after that she found the old man passed out in the living room, and ten days after that Bea Santello took an actual honest-to-God two-day weekend — neither studying nor running the Pickaxe, let alone doing both — for the first time in at least two years. When she tried to run through it again in her head, that was about 90% of what she could remember. Everything else was tiny little snapshots, most of it sensory:

  * _the sensation of wet cardboard, and the hard boundaries of dark and light on the boxes and bags, so you could tell exactly how high the waters had gotten._
  * _the thought: "shit, shit, **shit,** there is literally no way we can afford an ambulance, we have to take the car, i'm gonna have to carry him."_
  * _bright white light and terrible coffee._
  * _harsh sunlight and cold air and disgustingly, incongruously vibrant leaves and flowers._



It took her a while to really feel anything. At first, she was muddling through a mix of shock and terror at the thought of more hospital bills, more funeral payments. Thankfully, Mae and her folks had put in a good word with the Pastor, so that wasn't nearly as devastating as it  **could** have been.

 _At least dad had the sense to die **quickly,**  _she thought at one point, and felt like the worst person in the world. 

Still, it was going to be a lot to deal with, and as the days passed, it started to sink in what had happened. Bea never really knew her mother's side of the family, and the Santellos, well... all the ones who lived in Possum Springs were long gone, and she had no idea how to get in touch with the rest. She did have Uncle Matt's phone number somewhere, but he'd never picked up or responded to her messages, so... that was pretty much that. Without anyone to reach out to, personally or financially, she instead let herself lapse into a sort of working fugue, days at the Ol' Pickaxe bleeding one into the other into the other, nails and screws pointy-end-up in a heap mulch piling up too high around trees and choking them out paint swatches all jumbled up and indistinguishable.

And when the day was over, she took care of her coursework, trading in one job for another, her new equivalent of rest and relaxation because to actually  _stop_ meant she was left alone with her thoughts and frankly she would rather do just about anything than risk  _that,_ at this point.

* * *

That first winter, after the whole incident happened — once people had dealt with all the fallout, given up on finding the missing people (tense moments for all of them, constantly terrified that someone would mention the mine, but nobody did, because _why would anyone think to look there, why would anyone have gone there?_ ), picked some out-of-work thirty-somethings to get the mysteriously empty police department up and running again — that first winter, Bea had gone to each of her friends in turn and asked the same question:

"So like. Do you think there was anything down there? In the hole, I mean?"

In retrospect, their answers had been pretty predictable. Angus didn't even skip a beat: there was no "god" down there, or monster or anything else, just some hallucinogenic gas and a hell of a lot of wishful thinking. Gregg went for some vague Science-Channel-Specter-Finder stuff about "feeling a powerful presence" but having no idea whether it was even a thinking being or just some kind of unrestrained magical force. Germ said he was positive there was something down there, "probably what those guys said about an ancient bloodthirsty god," but it would be weak without sacrifices, and if it couldn't get out of the hole then it sure wasn't gonna get past the cave-in. (When Bea asked  _why_ he was so certain about this, he just said that his grandma had "stopped saying ominous cryptic stuff and started saying hopeful cryptic stuff." Bea hadn't really felt like following up on that.)

And as for Mae...

Well, Mae was of two minds about it. She said that either the Black Goat was real or she was crazier than she thought, and she tried to play it off like a joke, but it was pretty clearly the kind of joke that isn't  **really entirely** a joke. "Who cares, though? Real or not, I'd still rather this place fall apart than kill people to save it."

Bea wasn't necessarily surprised at the answer; what caught her off guard was how quickly Mae had answered, no debate, no hesitation. "Really?" She gestured in her general direction with a churro. "What if it was going to take out the _state?_ Or the continent, or the planet?"

"Aw, c'mon, Bea," she said through a mouthful of ground beef and tortilla crumbs. "If it were that big and strong, then the whole country would have started going to hell around the same time as Possum Springs, and we all know _that_ didn't happen."

Bea had laughed with her, of course, but her mouth felt dry and her stomach felt empty when she did, because for weeks, a thought had kept bouncing around in her head:

_You might have joined them_

_That's not true,_ she would remind herself.  _They sucked and I hate them._

_If Angus and Mae and Gregg hadn't been with you and if they held off on mentioning that they killed Casey Specifically and if they worded things in just the right way you might have said "yeah, yeah, let's drum up some business by throwing some dudes into some  magic pit ok ok in fact i have a great candidate already!!!"_

_Okay but like there's zero chance they would have worded it right, ever? Because they were total assholes_.  _Not to mention,_ she would add, remembering some of those online courses, _their terrible grasp of economics and federal welfare policy._

_And if it had been someone else, someone who **did** know the right thing to say, if it **had** been someone saying "we sacrifice people at random, to make it fair," or "we only sacrifice people who've done Terrible Things, ideally ones who aren't already being punished"  — what then_

And Bea had yet to figure out an answer for that one. At first, she tried  _I don't care enough about this hellhole to bother,_ but that didn't really work.

Because she was still  **here,** regardless.

* * *

"Ugh, come  **on** already." Still no midterm grades from her World Literature professor, who **said** they were going to go up like a week and a half ago. Bea tabbed away to look at her games, planning to stare at it for roughly a half hour without actually coming to a decision on what to play, then get tired and go to bed. Unfortunately, her plans were interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on glass; Bea turned to see a big bright pair of eyes and a nervous smile all but glowing in the dark.

Begrudgingly, she got off her bed and opened up the window, allowing a snow-covered Mae to hop in and give her a hug. "Would it kill you to use the door like a normal person for once?"

"Nah I think that'd violate like truth in advertising or perjury or something and I'm already on thin ice for all those job applications where I said I wasn't disabled." Bea smiled in spite of herself, and Mae immediately seized the opportunity. "Hey, **there's** somethin' I haven't seen in a while! And she's smiling, too!"

Bea gave her a quick pat on the head. "Only 'cause you haven't been back long enough for me to get sick of you yet. How was Bright Harbor?"

"Weirdly? Not that bright." Mae started wriggling out of her jacket, which was being surprisingly stubborn. "I mean, **parts** of it are bright at **night** 'cause they have these big signs for clubs and a theater and stuff, and I guess they can afford to actually repair their streetlights? But a lot of it was still dark and during the day it was pretty normal."

"Ain't that somethin'."

Mae finally managed to shrug her coat off and sling it haphazardly over a chair. "Well, maybe it was way brighter back in olden times."

Bea nodded. "Ah, yes. A beach in a world of untamed forests." The two waited silently, taking in the moment — Mae shuffling a little in place, Bea hopping back into her bed and scooching over to the opposite corner — before either of them felt comfortable moving the conversation along. "How are the boys?"

"Still gay as hell, still gainfully employed. You owe me fifteen bucks."

"Huh. Well, I guess there's worse bets I could've lost." Bea whipped out a wallet and started thumbing through it for the right bills. "By the way, you want, like, some water or something, or?.."

"Nah my shift just ended so I got myself a drink on the way out."

"Nice." She handed over a wad of bills, which Mae happily accepted and promptly stuffed down her shirt. "Okay, cool, like, you do have pockets I'm pretty sure, but alright."

"This is cooler. Not to mention  _sexier._ " Mae started snickering at that, and Bea — figuring she might as well go along with it — shot her the  _you can't possibly actually believe that_ expression that she clearly wanted to see. Then Mae went into full-on laughter, and Bea... well. She laughed a  **little** bit, anyway.

"Yeah okay. How's, uh, Davis or whoever it was?"

Mae shook her head. "Davis was the old keyboardist who lives above the pub. It's Cole now."

Bea narrowed her eyes. "Wait, not Cole—"

" _Hell_ no, oh my god, no way, not in a million billion years, come on dude you know they wouldn't do me like that. Different guy. Grew up down south."

"Mm. So they're still playing, then? Or, uh, I guess Angus doesn't really _play_ , but y'know what I mean."

"They are! Actually, we, uh, did a basement show."

Bea perked up at that; the band actually  _performing_ for an audience of more than one was surely a sign of the end times. "Huh. Good for you. Thought they had a new bassist, though."

"Nah, they have like, a substitute guy? Like the whole thing is that he's specifically there to do bass unless I'm in town."

"Seems kinda shitty for him."

Mae tilted her head up and raised a paw to her chest in mock-pomposity. "Well, it's not **my** fault he took like six whole triesto figure out Pumpkin Head Guy."

Bea rolled her eyes. "Are you ever gonna let that go?"

"Absolutely not because it was the greatest thing I've ever done."

"Didn't you like... get your Associate's?"

Mae shrugged. "It's not like it's a F'dee or anything."

Bea, unsure whether Mae was continuing to mess with her or legitimately thought it was pronounced like that — until a couple months ago the girl thought that party snacks were called "orz di-vwahs," after all — decided to drop the thread of conversation with a noncommittal "hm."

The silence didn't hang long before Mae got antsy and felt the need to break it. "So whatcha been up to?"

"The usual. Paying rent, paying wages, paying medical bills. Sometimes, when I'm  _real_ lucky, I get dinner at the diner."

"...Uh... play any good games lately? See a movie?"

Bea shrugged. "Not really. Watched like a third of a documentary the other day."

"Neat! That's, uh... neat!"

Before Mae could continue scraping the bottom of the conversational barrel, Bea decided to throw her a lifeline. "Yep, so that's me, what's up with you."

"Ahhhh, y'know. Went to church for once, it was super boring. Been throwing bricks at stuff."

Bea folded her arms. "What kind of 'stuff?'"

"Nothing **valuable, _mom._** " She stuck her tongue out; Bea returned the favor."But aside from that uh, I... I put in my, y'know, two weeks, the other day."

Bea's eyes widened. "No shit? I thought you loved your job." Briefly, she wondered if Mae wasn't able to handle it, and then she wondered some much ruder things before reminding herself not to be an asshole, even if it was just inside her head.

Mae chuckled, soft and small — not the way she normally did anything. "I dunno if  **loved** is the right word but it's pretty okay yeah. **Was** pretty okay, whatever. But like... I dunno, if I just cling to something forever 'cause it's  _pretty good,_ I might miss out on something way better, y'know?"

Suddenly it clicked. "You're leaving town."

Mae nodded. "Yeah, y'know. I was thinking, y'know... now that I have, uh, qualifications and stuff, and Gregg and Angus told me about this girl Cheryl who was looking for roommates, and she seems pretty cool, so, y'know."

"That's nice," said Bea in a way that totally didn't sound jealous or suspicious at all, she was pretty sure.

"There's another bedroom, though. So. We're gonna need to find a third person to live with us."

 _And here we go. The sales pitch._  God forbid Mae pay a visit just to catch up with her. _Well, whatever,_ Bea decided.  _I'll pretend I don't understand and she'll either drop it or she won't._ "Can't move into a two-bed, huh?"

"Yeah it's uh. You know. Like, a lease thing?" Mae rubbed the back of her neck. "She'd get like, fucked on the lease, or whatever, if she left early, is the deal apparently."

"Wow. Sucks."

"It does! It's gonna be a real pain in the ass finding someone!"

"I'll bet."

"It'd be great if we already knew someone who could be our third roommate, of course. If anyone comes to mind."

"I'll try and remember to let you know."

Mae frowned, finally catching on to what Bea was doing. "Bea, c'mon. Take this seriously."

"Take what seriously? You looking for a roommate? Like I said, I'll keep an eye out."

"Bea!"

"If you're looking for a different kind of help you should probably just ask for it."

Mae let out a deep, deep sigh. "Fine. Bea, I... need you to come with me."

"Cool. Thanks for actually saying it." Bea grabbed her laptop and set to browsing the internet, less because she was actually interested and more to make it clear to Mae that she wasn't interested in talking about it any further.

As usual, Mae either didn't get the hint or actively ignored it. "...So? Whaddya say?"

"Obviously no? We've discussed this before, Mae. I have a business to take care of."

 **"Beatrice** **."** Mae placed a paw on Bea's leg; when Bea reflexively turned to face her, she saw a pair of eyes staring deep into her with unmatched intensity. Bea wasn't sure she'd ever seen Mae this serious before. It was extremely surprising and also weirdly kind of hot but she wasn't really in the mood to think too much about the second part. "You know what's going to happen if you stay here."

Bea sighed. "What, one doomsday cult wasn't enough for this hellhole?"

"I'm not  **talking** about doomsday! I'm talking about, like... marketplace realities and effed up roads without the money to fix them, and... all the people you care about... not being there anymore."

Bea just shrugged. "Yeah. Good thing  **you're** staying by my side when I need someone. Good ol' Mae Borowski, always there until you need her."

Mae's response was slow, her voice shaky. "Bea, you know I can't make the problems, the **real** problems, go away." She was clearly... not on the verge of tears, exactly. Bea wasn't sure she'd **ever** cried, even when they were little kids. But she was clearly holding something back, emotionally speaking, desperately trying to keep it together. "It's dying, Bea. Possum Springs is dying and nothing either of us can do is ever going to bring it back, or even keep it going, make it stay a kind of okay place to live. We have to get out 'cause if we don't we're just... we're giving up on finding anything better. And I don't want you to do that!" 

Bea took a while to think it over. Part of her was desperately screaming _yes, please, please god take it, get out of here, get out and never look back, you have experience and knowledge and you're smart and capable and determined,_ and another part was gently repeating _pay the debt first, you have something stable right now, if you go taking risks it'll all just fall apart and you'll hate both yourself and her all the more for it._  

In the end, the second part won out. "Look, Mae, I appreciate the offer. I really do. But..." She sighed. "Someone's got to run the Ol' Pickaxe, y'know?"

" **You** don't! Just, I dunno, sell it or something!"

"It's not as  _simple_ as that."

"I know it's a thing you **can** do though, and you took business classes, so—"

Bea mashed her hand against her forehead and took a deep breath.  _I'll get through to her if it takes all goddamn night,_ she told herself without believing it for a second. "I don't mean business-wise. I mean... obligations-wise."

"Your dad's  **dead,** Bea, you don't gotta take care of him anymore."

 _Never mind eff that._ Without pausing for an instant, Bea gently closed her laptop and turned her head, one eye facing Mae dead on. No scowl, yet; just the best heavy-lidded disdain she had ever mustered, and that was saying quite a lot. "Get out."

Mae's ears went back and her eyes got wide as the thought _Oh Jeez I Really Screwed That Interaction Up Big Time Huh_ slammed into her like a runaway truck. "Bea, I didn't—"

 _Now_ came the scowl. "Get. The hell.  **Out** **.** "

"Bea, all I was saying is —"

Bea stood up and straightened her back, trying to capitalize on her height, make Mae feel like the _child_ she somehow still was in spite of everything that had happened over the past couple years. "Are you capable of even a  **little** empathy, Borowski? Just because  **you've** never gone through this doesn't mean you get a free pass to say whatever shit you feel like."

For a moment, Mae was more confused: "I — what?" And then in a flash she was furious. "My grandfather died when I was like ten, you asshole!"

The thought _you can stop, you can apologize, you can de-escalate_ was drowned out by Bea's openly self-destructive desire to double down on what she'd already said. "That isn't the  **same.** "

"Oh, sorry, I only lost my grandfather and  _killed_ my aunt, I must have no idea what losing someone is like!"

"You still have **someone!** All I have now is you and Jeremy!"

That only got Mae more upset. "What the hell does **Germ** have to do with this?!"

"He doesn't —"

"Because I'm not gonna let you badmouth him!"

"I'm not badmouthing him! This isn't **about** him, we're getting off track..."

"You're the one who brought him up!"

Bea groaned. "I don't want a lecture from you, and I don't want you telling me how to grieve. The world doesn't revolve around us, Mae. I have to keep doing what I'm here to do!"

"Oh, look at miss Civil Responsibility!" Mae proceeded to put on what was probably supposed to be a posh English accent but sounded more like The Worst Muppet Imaginable. "Oh no, I'm sorry, I can't come to the party, I have to quintuple-check my taxes again! Why, the historical society needs a new meeting place? They can take over my entire effing apartment and I'll just sleep in the  **Pickaxe!** "

"Oh, what, you're insulting my father's memory over me  **not taking you to a party?** "

" **No** **,** I'm doing it 'cause you don't  **give** a shit about yourself!" Mae jabbed a claw  _(extended? when did she extend them? did she even realize she'd done it?)_ in Bea's direction. "I'm doing it because you give more to that store than he  **ever** did, even when we were kids! I'm doing it 'cause he treated you like a servant instead of a daughter as soon as he got sad, like you weren't dealing with the same shit! I'm doing it 'cause every week that passes it feels like you're trying less and less about everything that isn't nails and plywood!"

Bea couldn't muster a decent response, because to tell Mae she was wrong without blatantly lying would take like an hour and a half and even  **then**  it would probably be a half-truth at best. "...Keeping the place running is a lot of work."

"It's work that _pays like garbage_! You can start a  _new_ business, with like,  _actual customers_ and shit!"

"It's not all about money, Mae! I told you, this place is... it's important, it  **means** something! It's part of the town!"

Mae laughed, very obviously on purpose. "One,  **come on as if, it's a _hardware store_ , **and two, since when do  **you** care about Possum Springs?"

 _That_ Bea could use — an excuse to get angry, to be self-righteous, to tell herself that Mae was being a self-centered piece of trash again, wow, big surprise. "Heh. Since when  **don't** you, Mae? Do you not care about your ~beloved hometown~ anymore, huh?"

"No, I don't! I never cared about the  _town_!It's just a bunch of shitty buildings and a shitty river in some shitty forest!" Mae's breathing was heavy, her fur standing on end; she raised a paw to cut Bea off while she figured out what she wanted to say. "I care about **memories,** and the **people** in it, okay? I — I care about the fact that over half my friends are either dead or a train ride away, alright? I care about the fact that as long as I'm living with my parents that's one more expense they have to deal with when my dad could totally get fired if the bosses find out what he's trying to do! I care about Pastor Karen being all 'I don't know if I can keep doing this, Lord' even though —"

"Wait, she, she what?"

**"Shut up and let me talk!"**

"Mae —"

"Even though she's the  _only theo-whatever in town,_ like, hey, maybe if we're lucky, Doctor Effing Hank is gonna become  _Father_ Effing Hank too!"

"Mae, quiet **down** ," Bea hissed. "I'm — dealing with enough right now without — the landlord getting on my ass."

Mae took a deep breath and lowered her voice to a still kind of unacceptable, but nonetheless _relatively_ quiet, level. "That's your question done, now answer **mine.**  Why do you suddenly  **care** about this place? All you've talked about for years is how much you wish you could get out of here! Why'd that suddenly go away, huh?"

The dam broke, and the flood waters came.

"Because I'm  **scared,** you moron!"

Mae went silent and lowered her arms at the sight of Bea bursting into tears, her jaws trembling as she desperately tried to keep herself quiet. She failed, and the sound of her voice got warped by the blubbering.

"That stupid store was — is — it's the only thing I have left, okay? It's been in the family for years and me and it were there for each other when my dad stopped being around for either of us and, and it's not doing great but it's doing good enough and it's gonna keep doing good enough until there's no town left at all 'cause as long as one person's still in this literal rathole junk heap of a town they're still gonna need what we're selling, and as long as this one store's still around then we have **something** that isn't a gigantic chain or the effing telemarketing firm, and..."

Her words collapsed entirely into sobs and heavy breathing, and after debating it for a moment, Mae grabbed her in a tight embrace. "Hey. It's okay. It's okay."

Bea responded with an exasperated whine. In between sniffles, she managed to shout "It's **not okay!** That's, the entire, point! It's awful and I hate it and I don't wanna be stuck here but if I let it go then that means I dunno what happens next to me or to the town or, or, to anything!"

"...Okay. You're right."

The two just stood there for a while, Bea continuing to sob through tightly-closed eyes, Mae sliding a paw across her shoulder and upper back. Bea's train of thought had gone express to  _I wanna die I wanna die I wanna die, everything's garbage, god, I must look like such a weak needy idiot_ but it was kind of hard to actually focus on that, on anything but the tears and her sharp, uneven breaths.

"Would it, um." Mae tapped her on the shoulder, and Bea opened her eyes, turned to face her. "Would it be weird if I, like, sung to you?"

"Wh-what?"

"Uh I dunno but like music makes me feel better sometimes when I feel really bad and I figured, I dunno, it might, help???"

"...Sure. Okay." Bea wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "Let's... sit down first, okay?" The two hopped back onto the bed and Bea took a moment to focus on her breathing, try and get it on a steady rhythm. "Okay. Okay okay. Go on ahead."

Mae nodded, took a moment to find her voice, and started. "I just wanna die, anywhere else..."

Part of Bea went  _this literally cannot be happening are you kidding me my skeleton is going to jump out of my body,_ while another part of her leaned her head against Mae's shoulder and fixated on the sensation of fur against her cheeks, the sensation of drying tear ducts.

"If only I could die, anywhere else..."

She managed to choke out "you're super off-key, y'know." She wasn't sure whether she was trying to lighten the mood, or save face, or what.

Mae just smiled. "Oh yeah? Let's see you do better."

"...Fine." Bea raised her head and took a deep breath in.  _Might as well go all the way._ "So come with me, let's —"

"Oh my god, that's  **so much worse,** Bea!"

"Eff off, my voice is shot!"

"Oh yeah just like that time your controller was —"

Bea gently shoved her, trying to stop herself from grinning. "Mae that was like  **fourteen years ago** or something, when are you gonna let it go?"

And the skies were clear, and the flood waters receded.

* * *

 

Bea spat toothpaste into the sink and started running the tap so she could rinse her mouth and wash off the brush. "I said I'll  _think_ about it. No promises."

"That's all I wanted," Mae said, staring lovingly at her. "I think... I think it'd be good for you, y'know?"

"I guess." She put the toothbrush aside, flicked off the bathroom light, and headed back to her bedroom, Mae following dutifully behind. "Would it be good for  **you,** though?"

"Sure! More insurance against the next mental breakdown."

"You  _sure_ you're sure? I can be kind of an asshole."

Mae laughed... a little more at that than Bea was especially pleased with, but it was whatever. She did her best to save face, though: "Nothin' I can't handle. You ever played darts with Angus?"

 **"God,"** she said, flopping on her bed and remembering a handful of nights hanging out at the shitty bar next to the Snack Falcon. "Does he still do that stupid pose when he gets a bullseye?"

"Nah, he came up with a new one. That one got promoted to his triple twenty pose."

Bea groaned. "Never mind I'm not moving there ever. Risk is too high."

"Okay but consider: You can splash the hell out of him at the beach and he'll be wet all over and it'll be adorable."

She stroked her jaw thoughtfully. "Hm. A fair point. I'll take it under advisement."

"All that I ask. Uh, hey, though." Bea turned her head to see Mae staring out the window, and... jeez, the snow was coming down hard. "I am super not interested in dealing with that right now, so is it alright if I stay the night?"

She strongly considered saying no, but...

_Honestly, I could use the company._

"Sure, but we don't really have a place to crash other than like... my dad's bed? Or the couch."

"I'll just sleep in here!" Mae hopped onto Bea's swivel chair, tucked her knees up and spun around, grinning. "I could probably fall asleep in like, a phone booth."

"Well... alright. If you'll be comfortable."

Mae gave her the "a-okay" signal and a wink, and once again, Bea found herself smiling.

* * *

 

It was about two in the morning and Bea still wasn't asleep. Didn't even feel tired, for whatever reason.

The night had warmed up, and the snowfall had turned to rainfall; already, she wasn't looking forward to walking to work in the morning. Maybe she could get Mae to teach her that power-line thing.  _Either it works or I fall and die or I get electrocuted and die,_ she told herself.  _Win-win, am I right?_ She chuckled softly, and it was actually a little bit genuine — honest gallows humor, not just pretending her suffering was a joke, even if the line between the two was thin.

But, if she thought about it... she really did think she was better off alive, which was a weird thing to feel again, and to feel so passionately.

Bea Santello stared out the window at the rainy evening beyond; flourishing woods, a dying town. Green grass, green leaves, high tide in a landlocked valley bound to wash everything away sooner or later. She thought about the neon and streetlights out in Bright Harbor, and fog rolling in at the docks. She thought about deserts and vineyards in the Mediterranean, and tall mountains, and tropical forests, and towns a lot like Possum Springs but not half as dead yet, maybe not dying, even, but still growing, still truly alive.

_Anywhere._

And she looked at Mae, conked out in a shitty salvaged office chair, snoring and occasionally twitching and jerking around in her sleep, because even at her most serene, the girl never could stay still.

_Just not here..._


End file.
